A Matter of Pride
by Eleora
Summary: She clenched her hands into fists, knuckles white and straining, straightened her slumping form, narrowed her green, green eyes, and vowed she would succeed the next time, and the next time, and the next. Sakura centric one-shot.


**A Matter of Pride**

There were precious few things that Haruno Sakura was truly proud of. While she was by no means unaccomplished, her natural talents were not particularly praise-worthy as she herself had no direct influence on them; she was a talented medic-nin not necessarily because of any hard work on her part (a not-quite truth) but because of a fluke of nature, a trait passed down by her parents, instances over which she held no control.

Her chakra control, while developed by years of sweat and blood and countless injuries, was a natural affinity of hers as well, and therefore not nearly so much of an accomplishment as if she were to have had no natural talent in the area.

Haruno Sakura valued those things which were earned solely through gut-wrenching, mind-numbing, torturous, agonising, pure _effort_.

It was largely because of this that she had first come to appreciate and care for her dear friend Rock Lee. While she didn't imagine she would ever develop a romantic attachment towards him, she still couldn't help but admire his courage and strength and sheer determination when it came to hard work.

Even ruling out genetically-influenced accomplishments, there were still a scant amount of moments Sakura truly valued.

Her first recollection of feeling truly proud was when she finally found the courage to stand up to her childhood tormentors. She had been frightened, she had felt nauseated, embarrassed, unsure—but she had stood up for what she believed, and she had let the world know that Haruno Sakura was not going to be pushed around any longer.

That very same action had directly shaped her life from that point on. It was because of that moment of bravery that she decided to become a ninja, it was that moment which cemented her friendship with Ino, and it was because of that moment that she first began to listen to herself and respect herself.

When she defended her boys in the Forest of Death, Sakura felt pride for the second time. In that moment, she acknowledged her weakness, her lack of skill, her fear, her insecurities, and her terrible, terrible aloneness—acknowledged them and shoved them to the back of her mind, fuelling a fire that had been building ever so slowly, ever so patiently. And with these feelings fully analysed and realised and then completely disregarded, she narrowed her eyes, tensed her muscles, clenched her fists, and said "No" once more.

Because of that courage, she was finally able to move on past her girlish paranoia and truly find strength. Because of that courage, she found the determination to succeed. Because of that courage, she let go of some of those childish fantasies and took one step closer towards the kunoichi she longed to be.

The day she saved her first shinobi, healing him and bringing him back from the brink of death, was her third moment of pride. Half-sickened by the nauseating smell of blood and pain and death and sterilizer and the sick, sick cloying of desperate hope mingled with despair, blood staining her trembling arms and reaching above her elbows, a pounding headache, double vision and a thousand different aches—she felt it. Felt the soaring, climbing, glorious beat of victory, and knew it was because of her that this man would live, and breathe, and see the sun again, and return to be healed again, and again, and again.

And it was because she took that risk, because she dared to pour all her strength, all her skill into this unknown warrior, because she tried to save him despite the knowledge that if he died she might never again find the courage to heal another—because of that, she found compassion, and honour, and a gratitude that could never be expressed in words.

Strangely enough, she felt pride for the fourth time when she lost her first shinobi.  
Green eyes frantic and wild and disbelieving, she pumped increasingly more of her chakra into the lifeless ninja, forcing life-giving energy into his dead body, her mouth open wide as she poured out meaningless, useless words, demanding that he live and stumbling backwards to run, run, run far away in a dazed agony when it became apparent that she could not save him. She had cried that night; cried as she never had before in her life. Gasping for breath, on the verge of hysteria, and nowhere near coherent, she had run the entire way to Naruto's flat, stumbling into his arms and sobbing against his familiar orange jacket the instant he opened the door ("Shhhh Sakura-chan, everything'll be okay.).

The next day, she uncurled herself from where she had fallen asleep clinging to Naruto's pillow, swung her feet over the side of his couch, stared long and hard and hatefully at her hands (traitorous, murderous, killer hands), and the fires burning inside her roared to life once more. She clenched her hands into fists, knuckles white and straining, straightened her slumping form, narrowed her green, green eyes, and vowed she would succeed the next time, and the next time, and the next, and if another shinobi died on her in the far distant future, she would add his memory to the fire inside her and save as many others as she could.

It was because she failed that she grew and became strong with a strength that can never be given, only earned. It was because of that shinobi's death that she barged into the Hokage's office, slammed her palms down on the desk, and demanded--eyes flashing green, green fire--that the Godaime teach her, because she, Haruno Sakura, was going to do all she could to save every last leaf-nin--her people, her friends--and she sure as anything wasn't going to let anyone stop her. It was because of this that she finally learned that saving lives isn't a matter of talent or genetic inclination, but instead a matter of hard, strong, painful, burning willpower and a determination to succeed like no other.

But above all these achievements, all these defining instants of her life, there was one moment of which she was most proud of, one moment in her life that Haruno Sakura could look back on and have no regrets, see no better course of action.

He looked at her with those dark, burning Uchiha eyes--harder, colder, and more intense than they were before his betrayal—looked at her, softened towards her, stepped closer to her, asked her a question she would have died to hear just years earlier. And she smiled--softly, sadly sweetly--forgave him, said "No" once more--and walked away from him.

She never looked back.


End file.
